The Final Problem

Okay, so, teamwork is awesome, as long as you can stand the can stand the other person.  As much as I hate doing group work normally, but with friends pretty much anything is bearable.  Yes, I’ll pause for the My Little Pony references.  Anyway, singing “The Ants Go Marching” while moving branches is much more enjoyable than just moving branches.  Same goes for painting over graffiti in semi-dark tunnels that might have angry hobos or violent mole people down it.

Even if my favourite pair of jeans are ruined from the paint, and there were constantly too many people within sight, the volunteering was starting to be fun.  I know I wouldn’t even consider doing it again if my friends weren’t there, but since they were, returning is always a possibility.  Perhaps volunteering is like picking up a new instrument or watching a new TV series – you have to try it before you actually begin to enjoy it.  That little push, like “Hey, you have an assignment,” or “Hey, don’t be a jerk, your Neopet can wait three hours.”  Like no question is a stupid question, no reason is a stupid reason if you need to motivate yourself to put on some pants and help someone out.  

I had originally planned on volunteering at an LGBT centre, but that was too far and most required me to be eighteen.  For now I don’t mind Tules, since it gets me out of the house and it actually is kind of fun, but I know I’ll be fleeing to San Francisco as soon as possible.  It’s funny how even volunteering, on of the least selfish things one can do, is selfish.  Why did you do it?  For a grade, to legalise gay marriage for my future self, so I can breath real air when I’m old, because seeing people happy makes me happy, because this run-on sentence won’t end unless I forcibly remove myself from the keyboard.

Photos:

Bridge to _reference_lost_

Bird's eye view, where Zoe is the bird, I guess.

Oh, no!  A camera!